Narnia: The Legacy of Rilian
by deanwimpchester
Summary: Being a hopeless Rilian lover, I was always curious of his life pre-Silver Chair and post-Silver Chair. Here's my version of Rilian's life. Rated T just in case.


**Since, I couldn't get in touch with Dearheart, I went with Val Evenstar's suggestions! Here goes,**

Prologue

In a dark, dark room, a hag, a werewolf and a black dwarf sat in stony silence. Caspian and the rest of his party had left the room, assuming they had died. But, reader, that was not so. They had merely put on a spell, such a spell that created the illusion that they were dead. Oh, but reader, they lived. You must be thinking, 'At what time does such a thing happen?' I see that I must tell you. This is after Caspian, Peter and the group of what some people would call 'heroes' went off to defeat Miraz.

The black dwarf, whose name was Nikabrik, sat up and hissed, in a snaky voice, "They fell for it; the fools!" He couldn't help but suppress a smirk on his bloodstained face.

The hag's eyes turned dark. "Yes, but they will come back into this room eventually. We must work fast, with the speed of a thousand horses."

There was a quiet howl of triumph in the room-probably coming from the werewolf.

"Light the fire," the hag instructed. "The time of the White Lady has come again."

Nikabrik said, "Yes, her time is nearing as it is prophesized."

The werewolf finally spoke. "Stop talking and get to work! We must make haste; as the hag has said, the foolish ones will come back soon enough."

Nikabrik nodded, as if to silently say, 'I see what you mean, let's get to work!' It had as much enthusiasm as the dwarf probably could bring up.

And so, they set to work.

Merely minutes later, the fire was ready, all the unknown, dark magical, spices in, all the words except the most important ones said.

The hag stepped fourth and said something of a different tongue and the blue fire turned green. A gorgeous image appeared in the fire, slowly becoming real. Her hair seemed to be given to her from the sun, for it was a gorgeous golden color. Her lips were as red as a rose, and she was wrapped in a kirtle as green as poison. She was terribly pale, probably from the years of winter before her defeat.

She smiled, and oh what a beautiful yet evil smile it was. "Thank you, my loyal servants from the past for bringing me out of the torture of the afterlife."

Nikabrik bowed and went on one knee, as did the werewolf. But the hag stood.

"Oh, Jadis," The hag muttered. "It's been so long. I wish for a sleep that can only be found in fantasies, a rest that gives off energy and liveliness."

The witch, Jadis as it was presumed smiled once again. "Oh, Ofaelia, you will have such a gift." And with that, she put one of her angel-crafted hands on the hag's shoulder.

The hag smiled and her eyes closed for the last time. Her lips formed two words and they were, 'thank you' it seemed that even hags felt gratitude once in any human lifetime. She fell down and there was one less breath in the room.

Now, the werewolf and the dwarf remained. Nikabrik stood before his alleged queen. "I am honored to be in the presence of such a beautiful rose as you are." He said.

Jadis smiled, only this time it lacked the kind and giving sparkle, as if it was merely pasted on. "You will get your up-most desire," She promised. "In your afterlife."

Nikabrik stiffened. What was she planning to do to him? He gave everything to her, and she was going to do something terrible? Jadis, now shown as a witch, slapped his cheek and something that felt like fire spreaded from where she hit him to his other cheek, down his neck his arms, everywhere but his chest, where his heart was beating faster and harder. The slap seemed to be some sort of poison, for right then and there, Nikabrik fell down to his knees, seeming to be pleading in silent screams and spasms to be shown mercy. But the witch gave none, but she only smiled in glistening hatred.

Nikabrik stared into her eyes, suddenly struggling to breathe. Things became hazy and faded, and then...darkness. He was dead. The witch had killed him.

He found himself watching what was happening next in the scene were his lifeless body lay. The witch stood as still as stome, a cruel smile appearing on her gorgeous face.

The werewolf yipped in fear. "Why did you kill him?!" he demanded fearfully.

The White lady smiled again, this time with all the kindness she could muster up. "He only thought about his gaining, not ours. He thought we were merely a tool to get his real ambition."

"And his true ambition under all this?"

"He wished to be the leader of all the dwarves; he wanted me to give him suppressing power to control all the possible things to control."

That was true, Nikabrik thought. All he wanted was to govern the dwarves to do what he pleased. If he was the leader, there would be no talk about Aslan, only hard work for Jadis. But it was true to say he underestimated the witch's power. She could have killed him more brutally, but, she didn't. That was probably compassion in her eyes.

Jadis stared at the werewolf, probably seeing into his soul to determine if his thought were focused on his ambitions or the unknown cause she and the hag were for.

She must have made a decision, for then she touched his face and said, "You are no longer a werewolf; for now, a regular human _man_."

The former werewolf shrank into a ball, twitching. His face, contorted with shock. His face, which was worn into a constant serious face, was now an angel's. His skin that used to be slightly gray, was now light peach. His hair a light brown, like chocolate. His light green eyes no longer had the haunted look, but now looked free.

He put his head up, now no fear in his eyes, utter delight that such a burden was pulled off of him.

The Witch spoke something in a different language, and the man turned into a black dog and the witch to a snake. They both left the room quietly. Nikabrik felt something tug on his shoulder. He turned around and fear flooded into him. He saw the death angel, taking him to where he would live until the judgment day. His spirit left the room for the last time.

Thus began the plotting of the capture of Rilian.

**Inproved version. I hope you like it better than the one before.**


End file.
